


Bye

by UnknownScribes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221 words last one starts with B, 221B Ficlet, 221B writing style, But if you don't want that no worries, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I mean I assume John is leaving for good, It is pretty open ended, John Watson - Freeform, John leaves but he might come back, No Dialogue, Sherlock - Freeform, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, What even are these tags?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:17:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownScribes/pseuds/UnknownScribes
Summary: Sherlock is deep in thought, contemplating what's going on and what he'll do afterwards. He is at a loss for words for once in his life.-Wrote in 221B style-





	Bye

**Author's Note:**

> "interruptive" isn't a word, but I used it still, so fight me.

Two, two more days, two more days Sherlock sat in the dark, legs crossed, fingers steepled beneath his chin. He thought, he focused all his mental energy on the task at hand. If there was two things he'd pride himself on, it would be his ability to hyper-focus on any given task, and that he could remain mostly emotion free. He would admit a few circumstances tugged on the ole' heart strings, much as he like to pretend he didn't have a heart. 

For instance one thing that always got him was John, oh Dear old John Watson. The only man he'd called a friend, well called a friend and meant it. John could be difficult at times, sometimes annoying, a little interruptive from time to time, but regardless he was his friend. The door cracked open, letting just enough light stream in that Sherlock almost hissed, almost. John stood in the door, haloed by the light behind him, a mighty shadow standing stout in the doorway. He didn't speak, not at first, he just stared at Sherlock, who stared back emptily. Neither spoke, Sherlock was the first to break eye contact, but John remained. A sigh, a creak, a click of the door closing, and Sherlock said or did nothing. Then another creak, another muffled door shutting, distant footsteps. 

Bye.


End file.
